Obsession
by Rrzaorgmaer
Summary: UPDATE - Final Chapter 50% complete. An aspiring academic leaves England for the Americas in pursuit of his PhD. Little does he know, a chance encounter with one girl will plunge him into a disturbing series of events that will test his resolve to the limit. This is a psychological horror story that will get very, very dark. Please leave me reviews :) .
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 – A chance encounter

Since my undergraduate studies, every action taken was directed at my eventual inauguration into the academy. As such, after successfully graduating from my home country, England, with a bachelor's degree and a masters, I applied for a doctoral position in the United States. I once played a game during my childhood which declared New York City to the be the chess board of the world. Naturally, this led me to choose the prestigious New York University for my PhD, a city which never sleeps for a gentleman who cannot. I must be honest, I felt like I was being called to New York, like a magnet pulling it's opposing half to become one. After saying my goodbyes in England and settling my affairs, I packed my belongings and boarded a plane from London to New York City. After my flight finally arrived at my new home, I took a taxi from the airport to my apartment in Manhattan, to get a well-deserved night of sleep. The next morning, after carrying out my morning routine, I dressed in brogues, jeans and a tweed jacket, and set off to my doctoral induction. After arriving at the institution, I was chaperoned into a noisy and busy lecture hall where we would receive an outline of how the next four years would unfold. I sat down away from the rest of the crowd, and took out a cookie from my laptop bag. Just as I was about to take a bite, I was startled by another doctoral candidate.

"Hi! Can I have that cookie? I'm sooooooooo hungry!" I glanced over to my right and saw a woman of fairly short stature, I estimate 5 foot 3, with short, pink-reddish hair. Her hair was decorated with a red bow above her left ear, and she was wearing black jeans, a crop top, and a small, brown leather jacket.

"Uh… I…" I was in shock at her blunt approach, and quite frankly amazed that she would request food from a gentleman whose acquaintance she did not know.

"Oh you're from England? That's so fancy! Are you like, a lord or something?" She had sat down next to me at this point, what a strange question. Was she being serious or sarcastic? One found it difficult to tell, having only been exposed to the Americas for less than twenty four hours.

"No…" I said, still amazed at how this conversation with my new friend was unfolding.

"So you're not from England?" She sat down next to me and rested her head in her hands, staring at me across the lecture rooms desk.

"No, wait, no, I am from England, but I'm certainly no lord. One wouldn't be entering a career with such little financial reward if that were the case." Though academia would grant an individual some measure of affluence, in comparison to a lordship, it was meagre.

"Oh, okay, it's still cool! Thanks for the cookie!" She took a bite out of a white chocolate chip cookie, crumbs falling from the side of her mouth like little boulders landing on her jeans.

"But I didn't? Wait how did you do that?" I looked at my hands and somehow she had managed to take the cookie from me without my knowledge, was this all some Darren Brown-esque misdirection to deprive me of calories?

"Elementary, my dear Wilson." She said, mocking my British accent in a slightly insulting, but bordering on cute, manner.

"Watson." I replied.

"Watson!" She corrected her early mistake, pointing at me with her finger at a forty five degree angle so as to not be rude. She was happily munching away on my cookie, one I had brought over from England. Despite only having known this girl for a few minutes, I had the feeling that we would get along great.

"What's your name, thief?" I pondered, smiling at my new friend in as charming a manner I could under the circumstances, offering out a hand.

"Sayori, Sayori Campbell. What about you, cookie crumble?" She said, smiling and stretching out her free hand to shake mine. It would be very un-British to have not shook her hand, after all, I am representing England.

"Flynn, Flynn Carson." I said keeping that charming smile on my face.

"Well, Lord Carson, what made you decide to leave England?" Sayori asked inquisitively.

"There are plenty of reasons but, I guess you could say I wanted to live a fairy tale." Perhaps in time I would let Sayori know why I needed to leave England but for now, one's secrets will remain that, a secret.

"Well Flynn, once upon a time…" She replied, her voice trailing off into the distance.

Three months later

"You know one day, you won't be late to giving your lecture!" I shouted, banging on Sayori's bedroom door. We had really hit it off and, after a few weeks, decided to move into together. Not romantically, you understand, but she had rapidly become my dearest friend in the United States.

"Sorry! I'll be up in a sec!" I heard Sayori stumbling around her bedroom, no doubt looking for snacks, her bow, and fresh clothing. It was usually myself who washed the clothes. After a few minutes of waiting, she was finally ready to walk to campus.

"Phew! Okay, let's go!" She said, closing her eyes and beaming a smile at my way. We exit the apartment, and began to walk the short journey to NYU.

"Have you given it any thought?" She said, swinging her arms side to side like a kid in a park.

"For the last time Sari, we can't get a dog in our apartment!" As much as we both love dogs, our landlord was adamant when we signed the tenancy agreement that we were not allowed any pets. Besides, how could we keep a dog secret in an apartment complex?

"But they're so fluffy! Anyway that's not what I was talking about, I mean have you thought about coming along to the literature association?" She said, turning her head to look at me.

"Oh come on Sari, we've gone over this before. I spend all my time writing my PhD and lecturing undergraduates, I don't want to spend my free time writing too." As much as I enjoy intellectual pursuits, one requires time away from academia to function.

"'Oh come on'" She said, mocking my British accent and grabbing my arm.

"I can't I need to write my PhD." Truth be told I was keeping ahead of schedule, and was more than on track.

"You're always writing your PhD, you spend all your time working, or hanging out with me. Come on live a little, it'll be fun! Besides, you need a girlfriend!" Sayori replied. I was quite shocked. Me? A girlfriend? I can't say I've ever needed the company of another. I have certainly enjoyed the company of another, but need? That was a powerful sentiment. Reluctantly however, I must agree. Sayori is right, my life has descended into a cycle of work, hang out with Sari, sleep, repeat and – as much as I love the life of the solitary academic – there is only so much moral philosophy one can indulge in before insanity peeks its unwelcome head around the corner.

"Look, Sari, I know I'm not a soldier anymore but, the thought of making friends with anybody without a military background it's just, they don't – they wouldn't understand me. I look into a mirror and I still see a soldier staring back. They don't even see a soldier." I said, staring into the distance, with forlorn memories playing in front of my eyes.

"Well, you made friends with me silly! So stop being all grumpy and come along. Just this once! And if you don't like it, well, I'll shut up about it." I contemplated her proposal. What could the harm be? If it's not for me well, it's not like I have to go back.

"Ugh… Fine. I'll come along." Resigning to her never ending requests.

"Yay! Thank you! I'll text you the room later!" Sari gave me a quick hug which took me off guard, I still wasn't used to her extreme levels of affection, even after three months. By the end of our conversation we had reached campus and walked inside, ready for a day of research and teaching.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 – The literature association

I had just finished giving a lecture on human rights to a class of starry eyed first year college students who, by the end of my lecture, seemed more bored than interested. I can't say I'm surprised. I was never one for engaging in lectures and yet, strangely, here I am completing a PhD. My phone caught me of guard as it began to vibrate in my pocket. It was from Sari, telling me to come to her lecture room. With no motivation whatsoever, I packed my laptop and walked the short distance to her lecture room. As I approached the lecture room I heard people speaking to one another. Before I stepped in, I peeked around the corner and saw three girls sat at a table. I did recognise one girl. It was, of course, my roommate Sari. The other two girls must have been members of the association. Working up the courage to enter the room, I walked through the archway.

"You came! You actually came!" Sari said, standing up to hug me as I approached their table.

"Well, I did I say I would." I was yet again taken aback by her outburst of affection, my arms pinned to their sides by the iron-grip of a girl half my size.

"Pfft! You invited a guy to this? Way to ruin the atmospherics, Sari! What ever happened to girl power!?" A small girl of about 5 ft 1 with pink hair said, as she continued to read her book. It looked like a comic book, but she was reading it from right to left which I found incredibly strange.

"Natsuki, please show our guest some degree of respect, he's only just arrived." The voice belonged to another girl, with jet black hair. She was at least two inches taller than me. While I stood at a mediocre 5ft 9, she was easily 5ft 11.

"Well said Yuri, it's important to me that our newest member feels welcome here." A fourth girl walked to me from the right. From my first glance at her I was immediately drawn to her beauty. She was about 5 foot 6, and her long brunette hair flowed down her back like silk, which, combined with her intoxicating smile, was truly infatuating. She was a pure paradigm and possessed every alluring quality of the fairer sex. She held out her hand and I shook it.

"Oh hi Monika! I was wondering when you'd get here. Flynn, this is the president of the literature association." Sayori said, pointing over to Monika with an open hand.

"My pleasure. However, Ms?" I queried with genuine curiosity. I felt something, something which made me feel drawn to her which, in itself, I find disconcerting. I have never been drawn to another individual in a such a manner before, this is very out of character.

"Hale. Monika Hale." She replied, smiling at me with her perfect white teeth.

"Thank you Ms Hale. However, I'm not your newest member. I'm just here to see what it's like." My only promise was to Sayori, and that was that I would come along, not that I would join.

"Well, hopefully I can persuade you." I'm not sure if her mannerisms were intentionally seductive, but the effect on me was impressive. I watched her as she walked away from our group. Even the way she moved was eloquent, perfect. How could a girl look so beautiful? I decided to attempt to make conversation with all of the girls. I removed my overcoat and scarf, placing it on a chair.

"Why are you reading that book from back to front?" I said as I approached Natsuki, sitting down next to her at the table.

"Because it's manga, you big dummy!" She replied. She said this in a sort of, half jokey half passive-aggressive tone. I could see it was meant in a playful manner rather than an aggressive one.

"So?..." I replied, still just as confused.

"Manga is Japanese and that's how they read, from right to left." She said, going back to reading her book.

"Oh okay, I had no idea. What is the story about?" I glanced over to her manga, trying to look at the pages. She closed her book slightly, reluctant to let me look.

"Don't..." She said, retreating into herself. I sensed she was slightly self conscious about reading manga, what with her being an adult and all, so I decided to put her mind at ease.

"If you're self-conscious, don't be afraid. I might not seem like the type, and I can't say I have ever read manga, but I do indulge in anime from time to time." It was half a lie. Though I have watched anime, I have not seen any for a number of years now.

"Really?" She said, trying not to seem interested in what I was saying, but betraying her inner thoughts by briefly glancing her eyes to the corner in my direction.

"Yeah, in fact, why don't you suggest me some manga to get me started? I could do with a new pass time." I had no intention of ever reading it, but if it got her to like me then I could at least be courteous and lie to her.

"Okay, yeah, sure! I'll do that, just let me think. Now stop distracting me, it's just getting to the good part with the cupcake monster!" She said, again in a half jokey half passive-aggressive manner. I stood up and observed that Yuri was sat at a table alone, reading a book, and so it would be discourteous to not give her equal attention.

"You're a quiet one, aren't you?" I said, sitting opposite Yuri.

"Huh?" Yuri looked up, she seemed to be engrossed in a book which was called the Portrait of Markov.

"What is your book about?" I noticed the front cover had was embellished with an eye, similar to an illuminati symbol, though I've never been one for conspiracy theories.

"Oh um… Are you sure you want to know? I don't want to freak you out." Yuri replied, she couldn't quite make eye contact with me and, in a way, it was cute.

"I spent enough time in the Army. Trust me, there's nothing you could say or do that would 'freak me out'." Hopefully that would put her mind at ease. Again, it was a half truth. I had certainly seen a lot during my military experience, but I could still be freaked out if exposed to a disturbing enough stimulus.

"Well, it's about these group of girls stuck in a religious-political prison camp and they have to escape to avoid human experimentation." She said, almost excited at the prospect of torture. Is Yuri a sado-masochist?

"Wow I didn't expect that, that's kinda…" Before I could finish my sentence, somebody interjected.

"Dark." Monika said, walking past and finishing my exposition for me.

"Oh! I'm sorry! You don't think I'm weird do you?" Yuri looked genuinely worried that a man she had just met might think she is weird.

"No no of course not. I've read psychological horror stories too. I once read a book called 'the making of man', which includes a vivid chapter detailing how they dismember an unfortunate soul while he is still fully conscious." I replied, hoping that it would put her at ease despite it's black connotations.

"I think I might have to put that on my to read list!" She looked almost excited. In the corner of my eye I saw someone move. I turned my head to the side and saw Monika staring at me in an inquisitive manner. There it is again, that feeling, that pull, drawing me towards her like an unstoppable force. I walked towards her, after all, it would be unspeakably rude to not engage her in conversation.

"Ms Hale, thank you for allowing me to trial your association." I said, smiling at her. She was leaning against the wall with folded arms. Despite her closed body language, she seemed easy to approach and friendly. For some reason I felt incredibly hot, so I removed my tweed jacket, placed it on a chair, and rolled up my sleeves.

"It's my pleasure, we always welcome new members. It's just the four of us right now." She replied, returning my smile. I walked over to the wall and leaned against it with her, observing the rest of the room, watching Sari, Yuri and Natsuki stare in my direction and laugh. I must admit, it made me feel self conscious.

"Don't worry about them laughing Flynn, they're not being mean, they just love your accent, as do I." She said in a semi-flirtatious manner.

"You know, this isn't as bad as I thought it would be." I said, ignoring her flirtatiousness as I placed my hands into the pockets of my waistcoat.

"I think what most people don't realise is that it's not just about the literature, it's about hanging out with good company, enjoying reading what you want, and just having good friends." She said, turning her head to the side to face me.

"Flynn!" Sayori said, hurrying over to me. "Are you ready to go? I'm hungry and it's your turn to cook."

"It's always my turn to cook. In fact… I don't think you've ever cooked." I said, realising that she had never cooked for me in all the time we had lived together. I put my tweed jacket, overcoat and scarf back on, so I could venture the cold night with some degree of comfort.

"Don't be a stranger Flynn!" Monika said, calling out to me as I left the lecture theatre.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 – A rude awakening

When Sari and I returned to our apartment I cooked us a pasta bake, she engaged me in conversation after we ate.

"So, what did you think? Are you going to join?" She asked me, eagerly anticipating my reply.

"It wasn't what I was expecting." I replied.

"So is that a yes?" Sayori excitedly asked.

"It's a yes. I'll join. I've been here for three months and I've yet to really speak to anybody else except you. Not that you're bad company Sari." I really do need more friends.

"Yay! Thank you so much! You won't regret it. Any who I'm going to hit the hay, all this food has made me so sleepy. Night Flynn." She gets up and pecks me on the cheek before walking off to her bedroom. I decide I should probably sleep as well, I have a lecture to give tomorrow on the metaphysics of morals, something even I found to be rather dull. After getting into bed I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. However, I was awoken.

 _Knock knock knock._

I open my eyes, was that knocking I just heard?

 _Knock knock knock._

I pick up my phone from my bedside table and look at the time, it's 3am. Who rouses one from their bedchamber at such an early hour? I stand up and walk out of my bedroom to check if Sari is in her room, she could have locked herself out without her phone. She sometimes goes on midnight walks when she can't sleep, a practice I am not overly fond of but nonetheless, she is an adult capable of making her own decisions. As I enter her room I see that Sari wrapped under her duvet sound asleep.

 _Knock knock knock._

There's that knocking again! Despite being in a new country with different customs and social norms, I don't believe that Americans frequent intrusions on one's home at such unholy hours. With that in mind, I decide to take a precaution, and walk back to my bedroom and retrieve the Glock 17 from my bedside drawer. I also put on a t-shirt and sweat pants so I don't welcome our guest in my underwear. I'm more than likely being paranoid, but something seems wrong. Something feels wrong.

 _Knock knock knock._

Upon hearing the knocking again, I cautiously walk over to the front door, setting down my feet as quietly as possible so as to not alert our guest of my presence. Upon reaching the door, I look through the circular spyhole to see who it is and, to my surprise, nobody is there. It must have been somebody playing a prank, I suppose there must be trouble makers even in the Americas. I turn around and start to walk back to my bedroom.

 _Knock knock knock._

What? I quickly turn back around and look through the spyhole. There is nobody on the other side of my door. Did they run off? At this point I begin to lose my temper. While I try to be polite, that is the epitome of being British after all, being awoken at 3am to a loud knocking is enough for even one of my calm demeanour to begin to anger. I turn the latch and open our apartment door. To say I was surprised is an under-statement. I was horrified. What I saw before me was not the usual corridor going from left to right, lined with doors to the apartments of other tenants living within the complex, but a corridor stretching into the distance. Just as I was about to close the door, a force drags me into the corridor, throwing me face first onto the floor. What the fuck just happened!? What the fuck dragged me!? I push myself off the ground and turn around to see the door to my apartment closing. I desperately sprint towards the door like a leopard hunting its prey.

"No no no no no no no! Fuck!" My fervent exertion is not enough, and I reach the door just as it closes. Panicking, I bang my fists on the door and scream for Sayori.

"Sari! Open this door! Please! Open this fucking door!" I shout as loudly as I can while hammering my fists on the wooden frame. The door begins to dissolve away, until only a white tiled wall remains. What the fuck is going on!? I feel a burning sensation on the left side of my face and instinctively touch it with my hand, I must have cut myself when I was pulled into the corridor. At this point, years of unfortunate military reflexes kick in, heightened by my terror. I turn around and raise the pistol to my eyes, and adopt the Centre Axis Relock position. The corridor is almost perfectly white, with tiles lining the floor, walls and ceiling. I slowly walked down the corridor, my pistol pointing towards the end of the corridor every step of the way. I analyse every single element in this hallway, the tiles, the lights, even the cold, damp and musky smell. I hear the patter of my exposed feet on the tiles and I travel through the hallway. The lights begin to flicker and I instinctively turn around to see if something is behind me, my eyes darting around to detect any potential enemy threat. Nothing. I turn back around and continue to walk towards the end of the corridor. As I continue my journey, I notice something awry. Something begins to leak from the tiles. I temporarily stop walking to observe the substance slowly dripping from the walls, lining them in an unnerving colourant. I touch the substance with my left hand and immediately realise what this is. It's blood. Red. Human. Blood. Petrified, I begin to hyperventilate, and take several tumultuous steps backwards while desperately wiping the blood on my trousers in a vain attempt to clean my hands. As I finish reaching the end of the corridor there is nothing but a splintered wooden door, Victorian in design and embellished with the pretentious patterns one would expect from the artists living at the height of the British Empire. I remove my left hand from my pistol and gently place it on the door handle, still pointing my Glock towards the door just in case I needed to engage a combatant. I pushed the handle down and slowly opened the door when, suddenly, I was pushed back by the same force which dragged me in here. I slide across the tiled floor all the way back to the start of the corridor, with friction burn causing immense pain across my forearms. I rolled over onto my front and pushed myself up from the floor, and immediately pointed my pistol towards the now open door. As I tentatively walked towards the door and, despite my exposure to this strange series of events which I could only describe and supernatural at this point, I was unprepared for what happened next. A woman walked through the door way. Her faced was disguised in shadow and I was unable to make out any distinguishing fingers.

"Only me." She said, in a low, husky voice. Then, without warning, a tsunami of blood rushed past her and towards me, filling the corridor with a tidal wave of death.

"What!? What the fuck!?" My eyes widened in horror at my approaching end, I turned around and ran, but towards what? A tiled wall, a corridor with no exit, a dead end in more than one way.

"Sayori help me! Help me please! Sayori!" The tidal wave swallowed me, engulfing me in a sea of despair.

"Flynn! Flynn! Wake up! You're having a nightmare!" A familiar voice called to me in the distance. I opened my eyes and saw that Sari was shaking me, her face was contorted into an expression of immense concern for my wellbeing.

"What the fuck, what happened? Where am I!?" My heart was beating out of my chest and my lungs burned from the excessive hyperventilation.

"You're in your bedroom, it's 3am." Sari said, sitting down on the bed next to me. What the fuck just happened? That was one hell of a nightmare. I've had bad dreams before but nothing quite like that.

"I'm fine Sari, it was nothing, I've had much worse." In truth, I had not. I have never ever experienced such terror in my life, not as a soldier, and not in my nightmares.

"No, I'm not leaving you alone tonight. Scooch over." Sari pushed me and I moved over to the other side of my bed. She climbed into bed next to me.

"Were you there again?" She said, turning over onto her side to look at me. I was lay on my back, staring at the ceiling, still shook up from my nightmare. It felt so fucking real.

"No. I wasn't there. It was nothing. Don't worry about it. I'm always alright." I said, still staring through the ceiling.

"Okay well, wake me up if you need anything." She said, closing her eyes and drifting off into a deep slumber. Despite my attempts to drift back off to sleep, I didn't really want to. I couldn't get the nightmare out of my head, it felt so real. I had to check something. I stood up and walked to my en-suite, turning on the bathroom light as I looked in the mirror. To my relief there was no damage to be seen. The cut on my head, the burns on my arms, all missing. Nonetheless I couldn't get the dream out of my head, it was so vivid. So real. I walked back to my bedside table and checked my pistol to put my mind at ease. I repeatedly moved the slide back and forth to eject the rounds, counting them as they fell onto the bed. There were two bullets missing.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 – A brand new day

 _Flynn_

"Wake up sleepy head!" I must have drifted to sleep. Sayori was hitting me with a pillow to wake me up from my deep sleep.

"Ugh. Fine. I'm awake." I replied, still feeling groggy from last nights events. Sari walked to her own bedroom to get ready for the days events and I did the same. I put on jeans, brogues, a tweed waistcoat and jacket with a grey ¾ overcoat which rested just above my knees and a black scarf. Before I left my bedroom I glanced at my beside table and decided to take my pistol as a concealed carry, just in case. We exit the apartment and began to walk towards NYU.

"You're different today." Sari said, looking at me in a concerning manner. I realised I had not said a word to her since I woke up this morning, my head was somewhere else completely.

"Sorry. Don't worry, I'll be fine later. I promise." I replied, smiling back in her direction.

Upon entering NYU, most of the day went relatively normal. After conducting work on my PhD for much of the morning, I felt my phone vibrate. It was a text from Sayori.

 _My bellies a rumblin', come buy me food 3 3 3_

I was fairly surprised by this communication, as I failed to realise that it was the afternoon. I stood up from my computer chair, walked out of my office, locked the door, and began to take a leisurely stroll towards the cafeteria. I entered the hall and saw Sayori arguing with the cashier, while a long queue of students were behind her, trays of food in hand, patiently waited for her to move.

"He'll be here in a minuuuuuuute just wait. Pleeeeeeeease?" Sayori begged, putting her hands together as one would when praying.

"Look lady, you're holding up the line, couldn't you just, you know, come back when he's here?" The cashier replied, gesturing for her to move away from the counter. I strolled past the queue of disheartened students, and towards Sari.

"I'm not the Bank of England, Sari." I said, slightly annoyed that I was, yet again, paying for her food.

"No, you're right, you're the federal reserve. Welcome to America, bitch!" She replied, making a whipping sound and beaming her characteristic smile towards me. After I paid for her meal, the queue finally started moving again. We sat down on an empty table, and Sari began to inhale her meal.

"Are you not eating?" Sari said as she slurped noodles into her mouth.

"No, not yet. I've no appetite." I replied, realising that I had not ate since yesterday. The events of the early hours of this morning had ruined my appetite. Who was that woman? What did she want from me? And what did she mean by 'only me'?

"Are you coming to the association later? Natuski and Yuri seem to really like you." Sari said, still devouring her food like a lion biting into a carcas.

"Of course. What about Monika?" I replied, noticing she had omitted the club president from her sentence.

"Huh?" She said, temporarily halting her consumption.

"Does Monika not like me?" Genuinely concerned that I had spurned the affections of a woman with such beauty. Though, I am still confused. Why do I care?

"No she does. She really likes you actually…" Sari replies, her voice trailing off like she is in deep thought.

"Look, I have to go, my lecture starts in ten minutes, but I'll see you later." I stand up from the table

"Yeah, I'll see you later." Sari says, she is no longer inhaling her food but slowly picking at it, like something is on her mind.

"Are you okay?" I ask, concerned for the wellbeing of my friend. I have never seen Sari like this as of yet.

"No no, I'm fine." She replies, beaming a smile in my direction. However, I sense that it is far from genuine, like she is wearing a mask to conceal her feelings.

"Okay, well. If you need to talk, text me. You know where I am." I say, walking to my lecture hall. As I entered the lecture room I was greeted with row after row of students, keen for the day to end so they could go about partying the night away. I descend the stairs to the front of the lecture hall, and begin my speech. Much of the lecture went well. However, after half an hour. Things took a turn for the unexpected.

"While utilitarianism as moral doctrine seems beneficial, in that the greatest happiness for the greatest number of individuals could be considered paramount to maximise overall utility, the issue is that what if you are the one to be sacrificed? What if your happiness requires immolation to ensure every other individual benefits? Utilitarianism begins to fall apart in the face of such criticisms." I say, leaning against my desk and staring at the projector screen. However, as I turn around to face my students, I am greeted with an empty lecture hall. Was my lecture really that dull? I understand that moral philosophy is a dry subject, but to lose one hundred students was, to say the least, quite the shock. As I am staring into the seats of where all my students should be, I hear somebody laugh behind me. It was not maniacal, but was more like a childish giggle. I turn around to greet the source of this sound, and I am horrified by what I see. The projector screen on the wall no longer displays my notes, but a picture of me, in that hallway, with the sea of blood rushing towards me, a surge of hopelessness unshakeable in its quest to ensnare me in its grip. Horrified, I switch off the projector, but as I do so, I hear the same childish laugh behind me again. I quickly turn around and, upon looking up the stairs towards the exit, see the same woman walk past the doorway. I immediately pull my concealed carry from its holster and point the pistol towards the doorway. Fear gripped me in its icy embrace, but years of combat had taught me to control the rush of adrenaline into my system. I run up the stairs and out of the lecture hall, my rapid heartbeat pumping blood and oxygen around my system to compensate for my exertions as I chase after her. As I exit the hallway, I entered the same white tiled corridor as before, stained red by the rampage of blood from earlier. I look to the end of the corridor, and see the same woman shrouded in darkness, observing me from a distance.

"Who are you!? What do you want with me?" I demand, keeping my pistol pointed at her.

"Just you." Her voice echoes in my mind.

"Uh, Mr Carson?" I hear a voice call towards me in the distance, I recognise it as one of my students. Suddenly, I am awoken from my day dream, looking around the room to see a sea of students staring at me blankly.

"Sorry, I must have, drifted off for a second there." I continue to give the rest of my lecture, and stealthily place a hand on my concealed carry. Thankfully, I had not drawn my Glock. What the fuck is happening to me?

 _?_

I watch him from the back row of his lecture hall. His knowledge of philosophy is profound, even by this institution's standards. His movements are fervent, full of energy with a remarkable level of passion for his subject area. His words, almost like he's trying to seduce his audience with his intellectual prowess. He is inspiring, magnificent, beddable, and mine. After his lecture ends I leave and walk back to my own office, dodging the swarm of students leaving for the day, ready for the ritual. Only me.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 – A blood sacrifice

 _?_

At home, I walk to my living room and begin the rite. I light five black candles which burn with a red flame and place them in a circle around me. I sit cross legged within the circle, and begin.

"Ama me." I remove a human heart from my bag, a souvenir from a student who looked at him with too fond a gaze. I unsheathe a blade, close my eyes, look up towards the ceiling and stab the heart above my head. The blood drips into my hair with warm red drops streaming down my face.

"Ama me."

 _Flynn_

I'm sitting in my office doing work on my PhD, contemplating the series of events that have unfolded. I've seen that hallway and the mysterious woman twice now and despite my intellectual capacities on which I pride myself, am no closer to unveiling her identity. I stand up from my chair and climb onto the desk, sitting cross legged. I place my hands on my knees and close my eyes, and visualise the events that had occurred to search for possible clues. I see her in front of me, shrouded in darkness. There is limited data, I can't even figure out her height or weight from the lack of reference points. Suddenly, I feel something, I open my eyes as I feel a stabbing pain in my heart. An electric shock of agony flows throughout my entire body as I fall from my desk, convulsing in a tormenting suffering which penetrates the deepest nerve endings of my form. As soon as the eternity of pain begins, it stops, and all I can think about is _her_.

"Flynn?" I look up from the floor and see Sayori standing over me, looking down at me with an expression of extreme concern.

"Oh. Don't worry, I was just." I stammer, struggling to figure out an excuse which explains this behaviour.

"Being weird?" She says, laughing at me on the floor.

"Yeah. What do you want anyway?" I reply, as I push myself from the ground and dust off my tweed jacket.

"It's association time!" She said excitedly, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me out of my office. We make our way to the literature association, for another evening of discussions. As we enter the room, Yuri, Natsuki and Monika are already there, sat around a table talking to one another. I sit down with the girls and we discuss a vast array of topics, ranging from the works of HP Lovecraft to the poems of Philip Larkin. I was impressed by Yuri's capacities, and – perhaps unfairly – shocked that Natsuki knew of such writers.

"Hey, Flynn, can I talk to you for a moment in private?" Monika asks me.

"Of course." We both stand and walk to the corner of the room, out of earshot from the rest of the group.

"I was wondering if I could get your number? You know, for literature stuff." Monika asks, looking up at me as she flutters her eyelids. I must admit, I was taken aback by this request and, despite Sari assuring me that Monika did like me, I did not expect her to want my number.

"Um… Yeah, sure, I guess?" I reply. I give her my number and we return to the group.

"Hey, Duke Douchebag." Natsuki says, gently punching me on the shoulder. "I got you this manga."

I stretch out and grab the manga, which is entitled 'Ichor Oblation'.

"What is this?" I say, baffled by the title of the tome encased in my grip.

"Just read it and you'll find out." She replies, giving me another gentle punch to the shoulder. Later that night, as I finally removed my clothes and crawled into my bed, my phone vibrates. It's a text from Monika.

 _Monika: Hey you, are you still awake? I can't sleep._

Despite my body almost begging for rest, I resist the urge and reply to Monika, engaging her in conversation. After all, it is only 9pm.

 _Flynn: Neither can I._

 _Monika: At least you can keep me company._

 _Flynn: I can't honestly say that my company can be held in such high regard._

 _Monika: Maybe I could find out._

Was Monika flirting with me?

 _Flynn: Maybe we could._

 _Monika: Maybe you should come over and keep me company._

 _Flynn: Address?_

 _Monika: 754 Park Avenue._

I jumped out of bed and practically threw on my clothes, desperate to get to Monika's place as fast as I could. I quickly dash to my en-suite to style my black hair and make sure nothing is out of place.

"Where are you going?" I turn around and Sayori is in the door way of my en-suite in her unicorn pyjamas.

"Monika's, she's asked me to come over." I say excitedly, this must have shocked Sayori as I rarely show such energy. Come to think of it, such passion is out of character.

"You're going to Monika's? But? I just thought…" I stare at Sayori, she looks broken. Dejected. I can almost feel her anguish radiating from her body as she stares at me with eyes that pierce my skin.

"Sari?" I probe her for an answer. Sayori sheds a single tear from her right eye. I think I understand, it may have been a few years since one had 'danced' with the opposing gender, but I still have an ability to empathise.

 _Flynn: My apologies dear, but something is wrong with Sayori. Another time perhaps?_

I text Monika but do not receive a response.

"You've never shown me. You've never given any indication. Not even a hint." I say, handing her a tissue to wipe the tears from her eyes.

"Huh?" She replies, as I walk towards her, putting my hand on her arm.

"That you cared this much. This isn't how friends react Sayori. So put on a dress." I say, walking back into my bedroom from the en-suite.

"Why? Where are we going?"

"Le Bernardin. A French restaurant. Come on."

"I don't understand."

"It's a date."

Sayori doesn't say a word and runs to her bedroom. I feel terrible for standing up Monika, however, I will not betray my deepest, secret, feelings. She gets dressed and emerges in beige a dress which rests on her mid thighs. Her makeup is simple, but elegant. I had honestly never looked at her in such a manner. I take her hand and we use an uber to get to the restaurant. A well-dressed waiter escorts us to a table in the centre of the room, decorated with pristine cutlery and cream candles gently burning to create an atmosphere or romance, as we sit down Sayori questions me.

"How did you know?"

"There's only two reasons a person cries over another with such pain. When they love another, or despise another." I say, starring into her eyes and gently holding her hand. Her pupils dilate, her skin blushes, and she follows up with an unexpected query.

"What happened in Afghanistan?" She asks. I sit still, my breathing slows, and I remove my hand from hers. I stare through Sari and visualise the events which preceded my journey to the Americas.

"In 2013 I was on a routine patrol with my section. I was just a rifleman. We were ambushed by the Taliban. It was a blood bath. Every single one of us was killed. Except for me. I only survived because I hid under the bodies. I stayed there for hours. Waiting. Expecting to be killed. But I wasn't. I survived when everybody else died." When I refocus my vision, Sayori isn't there. Instead, it is another. Monika. She stands up from the table and, suddenly, my chair is pushed back by an invisible force, and she straddles me as she kisses me with a fervent passion.

"Flynn?" Sayori's voice snaps me back into reality. I think I need a Doctor.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6 – A soldier's promise

 _Flynn_

"Wow… I never thought that it could have been that bad." Sayori reaches out her hand to gently caress mine. Her silky smooth skin was comforting to the touch.

"Well… Yeah… There you go…" It was half a lie. There were details I omitted from the story, details I couldn't bring myself to tell her, to tell anybody in fact. Nobody would understand, only a brother in arms.

"Thank you for telling me. But I can see why you didn't want to talk about it to somebody who wasn't a soldier." Sayori replies, encouraging me to keep my secret. The rest of the date goes relatively smoothly. The events of the past few days are forgotten, as we drink the night away. After we finish at the restaurant, we uber it back to our apartment, hand in hand the entire journey. After the taxi pulls up outside our apartment, I tip the gentleman and bid him a good night.

"Thank you for tonight I had a really nice time." Sayori says, beaming her beautiful smile towards me. "So… Would you like to come in for coffee?" She says, winking at me and making me chuckle in the process.

"I'm not sure you can do sexy, Sayori. Though, one appreciates the effort." I say, as she joins in with my laughter. We enter the complex and take the elevator to our apartment, our hands intertwined the entire time. We walk to my bedroom, change into our pyjamas, and fall asleep in each other's arms.

 _?_

I can see them but they cannot see me. I hover above them, watching, as I see him with her. Their bodies are woven together, two new lovers locked in a warm embrace. Although part of my plan, I still feel a twinge of pain. A knife through my heart. A dagger to the back. A lover betrayed. He will feel my pain. He will be mine.

 _Flynn_

I awaken from my slumber. My room is far colder than usual and, in order to ensure that Sayori remains warm in my absence, I ensure the duvet is delicately tucked into the bedframe. The alcohol has made me thirsty, so I decide to go to the kitchen and pour myself a glass of water.

 _Knock knock knock_

No. Not the knocking. Not again! Not now! I have to protect Sayori! Instinctively, I retrieve my pistol from the bedside table and give Sari a gentle peck on the cheek. I exit my bedroom and point the pistol towards the front door, as ready as I can be to face whatever horror awaits. As I approach the door, it suddenly swings open. I stand still, observing, scanning for any potential threat, when unseen force unexpectedly drags me out the apartment. I feel the direction of gravity change, as I fall through the darkness. I hit the ground, my hands cushioning my fall. But what is that in my hands? I grab a chunk from the ground, and realise that it is sand. I push myself up from the ground and look at my arms. Why am I wearing camouflage?

"Private Carson, fire your fucking rifle!" My heart stops. I know where I am. Not here. Anywhere but here, please! We're surrounded on all sides in the middle of a dessert, the Taliban are relentless and, with no cover, there is no chance of survival. I fire my L98A2 rifle at the enemy, picking off as many as I can while under a hail of enemy bullet fire. A sharp pain abruptly pummels my chest as a bullet hits my body armour, sending shockwaves of agony though out my upper body. I attempt to stand and continue fighting with my brothers in arms, when another round hits my leg, sending me crashing into the ground. All I can do is watch, helplessly, as my friends are picked off one by one by an unrelenting enemy, good soldiers murdered by disgusting terrorists, their bodies falling on me in a protective shield. After what seemed like hours of waiting, the Taliban leave, leaving our bodies to be consumed by the stand. I want it to end, hallucination or not, I know what happens next, fulfilling a promise to a fellow soldier through an action of mercy.

"Flynn…" I hear a voice call out to me. Apart from myself, there was one other survivor. "Flynn!" He calls out again with as much strength as he could gather. I push aside the bodies of my fallen friends, and see John lying on his back with several bullet wounds throughout his person. Blood seeps from his body, soaking everything in a thick red tar.

"You promised me. If it ever come to this. You promised." Tears begin to fall from my eyes. I don't want to do this. I can't do this… But I can't save him either. For the second time in my life, I remove my pistol from it's holster. I gently put my forehead to his, and we both close our eyes. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you John."

"Just remember, this is a mercy Flynn." He says. I put the pistol to the side of his head, and pull the trigger. I killed my friend. As I hear the gunshot, I open my eyes. I am back in my apartment, tears still streaming down my face after mercy killing a fellow soldier. A secret I will take to my grave. I stand up from my bed and walk to the kitchen. After all that? I need a drink. As I pour myself a scotch, I hear, what I thought, was Sari walking into the kitchen. However, when I turn around…

"You didn't save me." John says, standing in the middle of my apartment. His camouflage is drenched in blood, with bullet holes which continually ooze a black liquid onto the kitchen floor. His eyes lack pupils, and he stares into my soul with disturbingly white spheres, covered in twitching, bursting red veins which shower me with blood. John rushes towards me, his blue lips open wide as he releases a guttural scream into the room. I put up my arms to protect myself but it's no use. He tackles me to the ground and begins to punch me repeatedly in the face, sending wave after wave of agony through my head. As he raises his fist to strike me again, I use my left hand to push his fist out the way, which crashes into the floor. I grab his shoulders and headbutt him as hard as I can, which sends him flying backwards. I use the precious seconds to stand up and face John head on. My training and reflexes take over. I run towards him, push him against the wall and send punch after punch into his face. As my fist connects each time, blood oozes out onto my hand. But I can't stop. I keep punching again, and again, and again. Harder and harder until my fist is through his head, and the wall is covered in a red outline of his body from all the blood. I wake up in my bed and sit up screaming. I didn't save him. I didn't save him. I killed him. I murdered him again! Sayori jumps awake, slightly confused as to what had awoken her.

"Flynn!? Are you okay?" She says, placing her hands on my shoulders as she gently massages my neck.

"No… No I'm not okay. Sayori I don't know what the fuck is happening to me. I keep seeing… Things. I keep hallucinating I keep… I don't know! I can't keep doing this Sari, I can't! It's too much." My face falls into my hands as I gently cry. The tears leak through the spaces between my fingers and droplets fall onto the bed, soaking the mattress in my sorrow. Sayori holds me close and gently kisses me neck.

"Hey it's okay. You're okay don't worry. Whatever is happening, whatever it's going on. Whatever these nightmares are? I think you need to see a Doctor."

 _?_

I watch him as he sheds tears. He feels pain. He will drive her away. He will need me. He will only need me. Only me.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 – The descent

 _Flynn_

The next morning, Sayori and I awaken in my bed, facing each other. Her eyes stare into mine and, despite the traumatic events of the night before, I feel some sense of happiness. Her presence is comforting, and her body radiates a glowing worth.

"Morning sleepy head!" She says, gently smiling while rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her hair is a messy and yet, despite this, she is still beautiful.

"Morning." I return her gentle smile, and reach out a hand to gently caress her cheeks, smooth silk on the perfect canvas.

"Hey, about last night…" Sayori begins to say, but I cut her off.

"Don't worry about it, I'm going to see a Doctor. I promise." I say, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. This time it was the complete truth, I would go and see a Doctor. Madness was peaking its unwelcome head around the corner, and I intend to cut. It. Off.

"I know. But I wasn't talking about that. I mean, I want to know, what is this?" She says, scanning my face for any clue of what my answer will be. I gently squeeze her hand, and give her my answer.

"I don't know. But whatever it is, we can find out? But for now, we both have to go to work." I say, letting go of her hand as I stand up to get ready for the day.

"But what about Monika?" Sayori asks. I stop dead in my tracks and turn around to face her. "Leave Monika to me." I reply. The rest of the day goes smoothly, both Sayori and I walk to NYU and go about our business. At the end of the day, I walk to the Sayori's lecture room for another evening with the literature association. Sari, Yuri and Natsuki are no where to be seen. However, I see Monika in the corner of the room, and, putting Sayori to the corner of my mind for a moment decide that, despite it being incredibly awkward between us, that I should talk to her.

"So now you come to see me." She says, not taking her eyes off the book she's reading. She's flicking through a book entitled 'betrayal', which may have been an intentional choice to communicate her feelings through subtext.

"I am sorry. Sayori and I talked to each other and… I decided it would be wrong of me to spend the evening." I reply. Sayori slams her book shut and stands up from the table, walking towards me. She stops inches from my face and is so close that I can almost feel her nose touching mine.

"You don't owe me anything." She says, as her hand plays seductively with my belt. "But I promise you, you missed out on the best night of your life." Her lips are dangerously close to mine, and it takes all of my will power to stop myself from kissing her. Sayori, Yuri and Natsuki open the door and we step away from each other. Sayori runs over to me and hugs me from behind, Monika winks at me and walks away. Sayori stops hugging me and I turn around to face her.

"All sorted?" She says, holding onto the lapels of my tweed jacket as I look into her eyes, reassuringly.

"Done." I say, smiling. Though, truth be told, I'm not sure it is. A couple of weeks go by and, as we approach Christmas, I get closer and closer to all of the girls. One week before the holiday period begins, Sayori and Monika leave NYU and go to their home states to visit family. I dropped Sayori off at the airport and kissed her goodbye, leaving only myself, Natsuki and Yuri in New York. Natsuki and I spend an appreciable amount of time together and, one evening when we were hanging out on my couch watching a movie at my apartment, I notice something I had not seen before – a mark on her arm near her wrist. Is that a bruise? A cut? I can't quite tell from the angle.

"What's that?" I ask, pointing at her wrist. Natsuki turns to face me. She consciously pulls her sleeve down to cover her wrists. "It's nothing."

"Bullshit." I reply. By now I am close enough to all the girls to know what makes them tick, and I can easily tell that whatever is on her wrist is a source of anguish for my friend. "Come on, show me." Natsuki turns to face me, still covering her wrists with her shirt sleeve.

"Look… My Dad is a good man. He's just, seen some stuff you know? I do love him. At least. I think I do… He just had a tough time in Afghanistan." Natsuki replies, as she turns back towards the movie.

"Your father is a vet?" I had no idea Natsuki was an Army brat, though it does explain why she is such a turbulent individual.

"Yeah. US Army for most of his life." Natsuki replies, still concentrating on the television.

"Look, vet or not… Show me." I say, gesturing towards her arm.

"You want to see that bad!? Fine!" Natsuki shouts, as she practically rips up her sleeve to showcase her arm. Her skin is riddled with bruises, deep welts which colour her normally blemish free skin in a grotesque shade of purple. It all starts to make sense. Why she spends so much time at the literature association. Why she started hanging around with me so much.

"Whatever I say, whatever I do… It always upsets him. I can't get anything right and he…" Natsuki's voice trails off as tears begin to accumulate in her eyes. I stare at her, in shock and unsure as to what to do. I understand that a tour of Afghanistan is tough. I understand that it changes you as a person. I understand that you remember every single person you killed or saw get killed… But that is no excuse for taking out your anguish on another, especially your own flesh and blood. I wrap my arms around Natsuki in an attempt to comfort her.

"You can stay here… If you want. You can sleep in Sayori's bedroom, it's basically a spare room now since her and I became a couple." Natsuki doesn't stop hugging me and, with tears still streaming down her face, whispers "Thank you." Later that evening Natsuki goes to sleep in Sayori's bedroom and I remain on the sofa to watch the rest of the movie alone, contemplating her revelation.

 _?_

I hover around his living room. A spectral presence manipulating events to steer him towards me. He will be mine. I place my hand on his face, my incorporeal form remaining invisible to his gaze. I whisper in his ear, a disembodied voice choreographing his actions. "Kill him."

 _Flynn_

I sit on the sofa alone, and all I feel is rage. Anger. Disgust. He was a soldier. No… Once you become a soldier you remain a soldier and despite this honour, he has disgraced that title which he had earned. I stand up from the sofa and gently push the door open to check on Natuski – sound asleep. I walk to my own bedroom and open the wardrobe. At the bottom of my wardrobe is a chest, mementos from my days as a soldier, with new additions purchased from the Americas. I kneel down in front of the box and retrieve what I need. Black boots, black trousers, a black tactical vest, black rubber gloves, pliers, a combat knife, a balaclava, two duffel bags, a pair of binoculars and a suppressed P226. I place all of the equipment in a black duffel bag and decide to call an old friend.

"Matthew… It's been a long time." Matthew was an old friend I met during my tour of Afghanistan. A US Marine who saved my life on more than one occasion. Though, I had also saved his several times.

"Fucking hell Flynn you crazy British bastard. What's up?" He replied in a strong Texas accent. The bond we shared run deep, forged in the flames of war. It's why I called him, he would do whatever I asked out of loyalty.

"I need you to drop me off a few blocks from the address I've just text you, wait for me, then bring me back."

"Sure… Can I at least ask why?"

"I'll explain on the way."

Half an hour later Matthew draws up outside my apartment complex and I walk down to meet him. I get changed into my tactical gear in the back seat of his car while he drives to the address, as I explain to him what I'm going to do.

"Fuck me. Look, Flynn. I agree with you. This guy is a Major dick hole. But you seriously gonna do this? I ain't gonna give you up man, he sure as shit deserves to die but, this ain't you brother."

"Just drive." I reply. Maybe the anger was clouding my judgement, but I was looking forward to meeting Natsuki's father. Ten minutes later, Matthew drops me off at the rendezvous point and I make my way to the objective. From a suitable distance away, hidden in the shadows, I observe the house. The estate is a simple property with a drive way in a fairly average neighbourhood. There are no lights on in the house and Natsuki's father is nowhere to be seen. I steer the binoculars to the front of the house and observe that a car is on the drive way, meaning he must be inside the property. I put the binoculars back in my tactical vest, leaving the duffel bag at the observation point and approach the house, remaining as low as possible to avoid detection. I decide that the best point of entry would be the back door. I unholster my P226 and sneak around to the back of the house. I place my hand on the doorhandle, and gently open the back door. The door is decrepit and squeeks as it opens. I point the pistol in front of me and scan the room. There are no signs of life whatsoever. No lights are on. The TV isn't on. Just a dark empty house. I make my way to the stairs and begin the ascent. I take my time with each step so as to minimise the amount of noise, desperate to not give away my position to the enemy. As I reach the top of the stairs, I notice the bedroom door in front of my is open, and I slowly walk towards it, when suddenly I notice something in the corner of my eye.

"I spent 16 months in Afghanistan you piece of shit you think you can fucking come in here!? Break into my fucking house and live!?" Natsuki's father screams as he grabs onto my arms and bends my wrists. My joints are hyperextended due to this technique and I drop the pistol due to the pain. He swifly jabs me in the ribs, knocking the wind out of me. As I instinctively bend over in response to the pain, he grabs my head from behind and attempts to choke the life out of me. If I don't do something quick, I'll fucking die here! With whatever strength I have left, I push backwards against the floor, which sends us both hurtling down the stairs. Our bodies collide against the stairs, with each step sending an immense shockwave of pain throughout my body. As we reach the ground we both stand up in unison. His fist comes hurtling towards me, and I dodge backwards to avoid being hit in the jaw. A second fist comes flying my way, and I again dodge backwards. However, this time I grab onto whatever is being me – a lamp – and smash him over the head. The lamp shatters on impact and, despite the pain, he keeps sending a flurry of punches my way. I grab onto his arm with my left hand and send a right knee into his stomach, returning the favour and knocking the wind out of him. As he is bent over, I unsheathe my knife and go to stab him in the stomach. That's when I realise, I'm not a fucking murderer. What the fuck came over me? No no no this isn't me. Who or what the fuck is doing this!? However, I still need to leave him a message, to protect Natuski. I kick his ankle and he falls to the floor, still in agony from being hit with a lamp and being kneed in the stomach. I kneel down in front of him and decide to give him some advice.

"If you ever hurt Natsuki again, I will kill you. Do you understand? I will fucking end you." He mumbles something half consciously and I decide that now is a good time to leave. I retrieve my pistol, and escape to the observation point. I get changed into my normal clothes, and place everything else into the spare duffel bag I packed, including the original duffel bag I left with. I then meet Matthew at the rendezvous point and climb into his car.

"Please don't tell me you fucking killed him."

"No no, I didn't. But I don't think he will bother her again."

I look out the car window and focus on my reflection. I see a soldier, dressed in full Army gear, covered in blood staring back at me.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8 – The hospital

 _?_

The stage is set. The foundations have been laid. Now my plan will come together.

 _Flynn_

"We need you to stay as still as possible in there." The doctor said. I was inside a CAT scan machine dressed in a hospital gown, finally getting medical attention to address the hallucinations I had been experiencing for the past month. The table slid back into the machine, and I was greeted with the constant and unrelenting shriek of the machine. The Doctors were looking for any physiological reason for my hallucinations, perhaps a brain tumour or some other sort of malignancy, though biology is far from my strong point so my understanding was limited at best. After thirty minutes, the machine stopped, and the table slid forwards – allowing me to re-enter the world.

"Well good Doctor, what is the prognosis?" I queried, removing my hospital gown and getting dressed back into my own clothing. I admit, I was worried to say the least. While one had faced death many times on the battlefield, I'd rather face the enemy head on and fall side by side with my brothers in arms than be taken by an illness.

"Doctor?" There was no response. I had finished getting dressed and stood up from the table, walking to the door of the observation room situated in the corner. I knocked on the door, but received no response. As such, I opened the door to the observation room, but it was empty. The Doctors were no where to be seen. Where had they gone too? The events of the previous few days had made me exceedingly paranoid, so I unholstered my concealed carry. I walked over to the exit, and put my head up against the door. My ear connected with the cool surface, and I listened carefully for any sign of what may be on the other side. Nothing. Not a sound. Not a whisper. Nothing. I gently pushed the door open and kept the pistol close to my body, and entered the hospital corridor, the same corridor I had previously walked through in my Apartment. The tiles, the cold damp smell and the blood which had now stained every perfect white surface with a gruesome red tinge. I aimed down the sights of my pistol towards the end of the corridor except, where there was once an ornate wooden door of Victorian design, there was now a set of opaque glass double doors. A bright light emanated from the opaque glass door, illuminating the corridor in an eerie red glow. The corridor was deathly silent, and my heartbeat echoed off the sanguine walls, filling the hallway with a soundtrack which spoke of immense fear and terror. I carefully walked towards the end of the hallway, placing each foot in front of the next with grit and determination. As I reached the opaque glass doors, I saw movement inside. Keeping my pistol close to my body, I opened the door. It was an operating theatre. At least six individuals dressed in blood soaked scrubs surrounded a body. One of the surgeons looked up, but did not look at me. They looked through me, as if I wasn't there.

"We're losing him! Get the defibrillator!" One of the Doctors ordered.

I walked closer to the body, a soldier still dressed in full gear. His shirt had been sliced open and his chest was covered in thick bruises, with blood leaking from his stomach, legs and fuck knows where else. Something was familiar about him, I'd seen this person before. I walked round to the other end of the bed and looked at his blood drenched face. It was me. This was the operation that saved my life after I was shot several times, after I mercy killed my friend. Suddenly, I was grabbed from behind. A woman stood before me, the same who had also drowned me in blood before. She leaned in to kiss me and after our lips connected, I woke up in the CAT scan machine.

"It happened again Doctor, I was just there. Another hallucination." My head was fucking killing me, and I felt like I was going to throw up.

"Well… That's odd." The Doctor replied, his glasses on the end of his nose as he looked at me over the top of his spectacles.

"Why?" I said, sitting on the end of the CAT scan table.

"There's nothing wrong with you."

After the CAT scan, I got dressed and rode the subway back to my apartment. How could there be nothing wrong with me? If it wasn't anything physiological, then am I just losing my mind? I don't know what would be worse, a tumour or mental illness. After I exit the subway, I took a taxi to my apartment. As I exit the elevator and walked to my apartment, the door was slightly open. I unholstered my pistol and opened the door, scanning the room for any intruder.

"That's no way to greet me."

I recognised the voice. A beautiful feminine voice of perfect femininity. Sayori.

"I didn't know you were coming here."

"I wanted to surprise you." She said, wrapping her arms around me and kissing me in a passionate embrace. We spent the night together, exploring each others bodies. I'm falling in love with her, and I'm sure she's falling in love with me. It's perfect. I don't care if I have to deal with vivid hallucinations I just want her. I woke up in the middle of the night, with Sayori next to me. She was lay on her back, facing away from me, and I stood up to go to the kitchen for a drink. As I entered the kitchen, the front door opened. Sayori entered the apartment.

"Oh! Gee you're awake! I wanted to surprise you!" Sayori said, running over and hugging me, pinning my arms to my sides. But if Sayori is here… Then who did I just sleep with? We both heard footsteps coming from the bedroom and, stood in the hallway, was Monika.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9 – Lovers lost

 _Flynn_

"Get out. Just fucking, get out!" Sayori screamed at Monika. Monika grabbed all of her things and ran out of the apartment, half naked and half asleep.

"So, what, I leave for two weeks and you just fuck Monika!? My fucking friend!?" Sayori howled in my face. I've never seen her like this, her usual bubbly personality long gone.

"Sayori I swear. I promise you I thought she was you!" I didn't cheat on her, I can't have, I wouldn't have! How did this fucking happen!?

"Thought she was me!? I have red fucking hair Flynn! She's taller than me!" Sayori ran into her bedroom and locked the door. I knocked on the door and tried the handle to get in but it wouldn't budge.

"Sayori please, open the door, I swear I'm telling the truth!" There was no response, and all I could hear was the faint sobbing of a girl with a broken heart. But this isn't right, I did not cheat on her. I kept trying the door but there was no way for me to enter short of breaking down the door, a solution I'd prefer to avoid. I walk to my bedroom and lie down but sleep eludes me. I hear my phone vibrate on my bedside table, and open a text from Monika.

 _Monika: See you around, handsome._

I don't believe her text requires a response, however I have no right to be angry with her. From her perspective, I led her to my bedroom, I willingly slept with her, and I wanted her. Keeping my phone in my hand, I decide to text Natsuki. I could use a friend after the drama of tonight and, hopefully, she won't judge me on what I've done – despite the fact that, from my perspective, it was Sayori beneath me rather than Monika.

 _Flynn: I could really use a drink right now, swing by the usual spot?_

 _Natsuki: Sure thing._

I got dressed into my usual tweed attire and walked to Sayori's bedroom door. I put my head up against the door and hear Sayori still gently sobbing to herself, I go to knock on her door but stop myself at the last second. She doesn't need me to cause her any more pain tonight and, with that, I leave to drink away my sorrows. After I arrived at the bar, a lovely little place called the Little Branch, I took a seat on one of the stools and ordered a dry martini. After my drink arrived, I began to ponder the events of the previous few weeks. The corridor, the woman, mistaking Sayori for Monika. How was this all possible when my CAT scan was fine?

"Just so you know, I'm not judging you. Even if you are a big dummy." A familiar voice spoke next to me. I turned to my side and saw Natsuki on the stool next to me.

"I didn't fuck Monika." I said, staring into my martini glass, hoping to find an answer through alcohol.

"Well… You kinda did. Bartender? A Manhattan please." The bartender nodded and set to mixing Natsuki's cocktail.

"I mean… I did but, I swear it was Sayori. I genuinely believed that it was Sayori, I swear. You have to believe me, I wouldn't cheat on Sayori I just wouldn't." I looked at Natsuki and her expression was a mixture of bewilderment and concern. I didn't expect her to believe me.

"You know what I think?" She replied. The bartender placed her drink on the counter next to her, and she took it in her hand, gracefully holding the stem of the martini glass with an air of elegance – a direct contrast to her usual, brash, personality.

"What's that? Bartender, a white Russian, please." I said, the bartender nodded and started to mix my drink – it would be a long night for him.

"I think…" Natuski lowered her voice to a whisper and leaned in closer, next to me. "That I need to thank you for what you did to my Dad."

"Huh? What? What's happened to your Dad?" I tried my best to feign ignorance, but she saw straight through my deceit.

"It's okay Flynn. I was actually going to call you. I think I need a place to stay for a few days and, I was wondering, if I could stay with you and Sayori?" She looked worried, and that's when I saw it. The slight smudge in her makeup, foundation applied to hide a bruise around her eye. I made him a promise and, now? I fully intend to see it through.

"Of course you can. I'll have to talk to Sayori considering what's happened but… I'm sure she'll be okay." This would be an awkward conversation to have. She'd just caught me with Monika and now I'm bringing home Natsuki? Even with my British charm I doubt I'll be able to pull it off. Alas, I cannot condemn Natsuki to the cruelty of her father. We kept drinking the night away and, after one too many martinis, we took a taxi to my apartment. We entered my apartment and the room greeted us with a blurry haze.

"Sayori! Come out please, I need to talk to you about Natsuki." I said with a louder than usual and, slightly slurred, voice. Sayori did not respond, so I walked to her room and knocked on the door, but still no answer. Has she gone out? Glancing around the room, I take note of several items that she would certainly not have left were she to abscond for a few days. Her keys on the table, her handbag on a chair, and her mobile phone near the kitchen surface. Something doesn't feel right here. I walk back over to Sayori's room and open the door, her bedroom is empty, and the scene undisturbed by any prospect of violence. I walk over to her en-suite and knock on the door. It's locked and, with that, I decide enough is enough. I aim for just above door handle, and kick the door through as hard as I can. The door swings through with an immense force, cracking the frame and the door in several places and sending splinters of wood flying in several directions.

"Oh fuck! Sayori! Natsuki get in here, now!" What greeted me is what I can only describe as my perfect nightmare. I would rather face the blood stained corridor a thousand times over than see Sayori lying in a pool of her own blood in the bathtub. Red streams of blood leak from large slits in her wrists, running down from the crease in her elbow joint all the way to her wrist. I feel sick. This is my fault. She would be alive if it were not for me! Why couldn't I see it was Monika!?

"Wh- Holy shit! Sayori!" Natuski collapses in the doorway and tears begin to well up in her eyes. I kneel next to the tub and lean in close to Sayori, tears welling up in my eyes as I prepare to say goodbye to someone whose existence is paramount to my own happiness. I grab her still warm hand and gently squeeze. However… Something is amiss. A glimmer of hope, a vibration of redemption. Her pulse. Her heart is still beating, she's still breathing! My military training kicks back in and I wipe the tears from my eyes, I can do this. I can save her!

"Natuski, fucking pull yourself together and cry after. We can save her!" The soldier in me takes over. All that matters now is saving Sayori. I turn around and see that Natsuki is still crying in the doorway and realise that, this isn't Afghanistan, and she isn't a soldier. She's a civilian in a New York apartment. I run over to the doorway and kneel next to Natsuki and take her hand in mine, attempting to pull her into my way of thinking.

"Natsuki, I know this is a nightmare scenario, but I need you to follow my instructions and do everything I say because if you do – I promise you – we will save her." Natsuki looked in my eyes and, with tears streaming down her face, nods.

"Okay." She replies, gently smiling through her pain. I smile back and give her hand a gentle squeeze before running back over to Sayori to analyse her wounds. Too large for stitches, too much blood for first aid kit bandages to be effective. Shit. I turn around and the scene has changed, I'm not longer in my apartment – I'm back in Afghanistan and, like a spectator in the theatre, a scene unfolds before me. I observe a vision of myself, sitting on my own in the middle of the dessert surrounded by the corpses of my fallen comrades. My trousers, torn apart from a hail of bullet fire. This is what I did to survive long enough to get the hospital. I observe the apparition of myself taking a combat knife out and heating it with a portable gas cooker, before jamming the hot blade into open flesh. His screams – my screams – permeate the air, before the apparition falls unconscious, and the hallucination melts away. I turn back around and I'm back in Sayori's bathroom. That's how she will survive. Cauterise the wound Flynn. But this time, a heated combat knife won't be enough.

"Natuski, in my bedroom there's a spare magazine for my pistol in my bedside table. There should also be some tools. Get me some pliers and my windproof cigarette lighter too." Natsuki ran to my bedroom and retrieved the items.

"Okay! I got them!" She says, shakily handing over the items to me.

"Good. Now call 911." Natsuki ran off the make the life-saving phone call, while I grabbed the pliers and took a deep breath. I wipe away as much blood as I can before removing several rounds from the magazine and, using the pliers, tear several rounds apart. I carefully direct the gunpowder into Sayori's wounds to ensure ample coverage for her treatment. I reach over and grab my windproof lighter and, taking a deep breath, light the gunpowder. The gunpowder bursts into flames, sealing her wounds shut to prevent any further bleeding.

"They're coming Flynn, just a few minutes." Natsuki had come back into the room and placed her hand on my shoulder to console me. This is still my fault. I stare into a red pool of blood on the floor and see a blood drenched soldier staring back.

 _1 hour later_

"She's lost a lot of blood. She's lucky you found her in time otherwise she would have bled out. Can't say I approve of your methods but, you saved her life." The Doctor says, commenting on Sayori's condition. Natsuki and I are sitting next to Sayori in the hospital. She's hooked up to all sorts of machines, producing a variety of different noises which echo around the room.

"How long before she wakes up?" Natsuki asks with immense concern for her friend.

"Well… Would you like a coffee? Or some tea for your British friend?" The Doctor says.

"Doctor, as much as I appreciate the stereotype, please, just tell me. How long before she wakes up?" I reply, leaning in to hold Sayori's hand over the bedrail. The Doctor sighs as he sits down and leans in towards Natsuki and myself.

"She's in a coma. She lost a lot of blood and, honestly? I don't know how long it will be before she wakes up. Could be by the end of the day…" The Doctor gently says, his soft voice attempting to console us in vein.

"Or it could be never…" I reply, my voice trailing off. This is all my fault.

"I'm sorry. I'll let you know if anything changes. Stay as long as you like." And with that said, the Doctor left the room.

"What do you want to do?" Natsuki asked, placing her hand on my arm in a comforting manner. I stand up from the chair and gently kiss Sayori on the forehead. I'll make this right. I don't know how, but I will make it right.

"Let's go. I need to think." I replied. Natsuki stood up and took me by the hand. We took a taxi back to my apartment. All I want is to sleep, to crawl up in my bed and just sleep. As we enter the apartment I begin to walk to my bedroom but Natsuki grabs me by the arm and stops me.

"I'm gonna go sleep in Sayori's room but, if you need me, don't hesitate to wake me up okay?" I nod in response and walk off to my room. Natsuki's hand slips away from my arm and for the first time, I truly feel lost in the United States. I enter my bedroom and close the door behind me. I sit on the bed, and place my face in my hands. I don't know how I'm going to fix this, I have no idea. This isn't a war. There is no enemy. I can't kill a coma. What can I do? I feel my phone vibrate in my pocket and I remove my head from my hands to grab my phone.

 _Monika: I'm sorry about Sayori. I love her as much as you do and I feel like a fucking bitch. I just fucking wanted you so bad Flynn. I fucking need you._

I could feel the raw emotion emanating from Monika's text and, despite what happened, I harbour no ill feelings for the girl. Sure she might have fucked me behind her friends back but, I did the same. Or did I? I still don't know how I mistook Monika for Sayori, I would never cheat on her… But I did. I place my phone in my pocket and, suddenly, something grabs me from behind, choking the life out of me. What the fuck!? I desperately struggle against my attacker but I can't break free from their iron grip.

"You come into my house, you fucking beat me in my own fucking house and threaten to kill me!? You messed with the wrong vet." I recognised the voice as that of Natsuki's father. I desperately clawed at his face, doing anything I could to escape his grasp but I feel the energy draining from me as I fall unconscious, my body embracing the void. When I awaken, I'm lying on the ground outside, my hands are cable tied behind my back, my legs are cable tied together and a hood covers my head. Natsuki's father removes the hood from my head, and I see Natsuki on the ground next to me in a similar state. She is shaking with fear and for the first time in a combat situation, I feel helpless.

"Wakey wakey!" Natsuki's father kicks me in the stomach and I keel over in agony. "Look behind you." I do as he says and turn around and see two holes in the ground. Two graves.

"Dad! Please, just stop!" Natsuki begs her own father, a desperate attempt at mercy. Natsuki's father turned his attention from me and looked towards his daughter, brandishing a knife to end her life. As he approached her, Natsuki began to struggle with increasing desperation, as he continued his approach.

"Dad, please! No!" Natsuki's father leaned in close towards her face.

"You took my wife from me. I loved that woman, and then you came along. And now? I'm going to put you in your fucking grave. But not before I deal with that cunt." I assume he means me. He leans in close to Natsuki and places the knife against her face, slicing her cheek with the cold Damascus steel. Natsuki's screams echo far and wide, but nobody can hear her terror. We're in the middle of nowhere and nobody will come to our help. He stands up and leaves Natsuki alone for the time being and redirects his attention back to me. Blood drips from Natsuki's wound as she quietly sobs, resigning herself to her inevitable death.

 _?_

I love him. Flynn. The mind of an intellectual combined with the brutality of the soldier. A living contradiction. A warrior with the brain of a philosopher. He is perfect. He is mine. And nothing turns me on more than seeing this beautiful man survive time and time again. For me? Orgasmic. However… As I watch, I realise. This is a battle he will not win, and I will not let him die. I will not let this protozoa take my love away from me. I will intervene.

 _Flynn_

He begins his approach and pulls out his pistol, ready to put a bullet between my eyes. If I'm going to die here, I'm going to go out like a soldier, and look my enemy in the eyes before I die. He points the gun at my head and he's ready to pull the trigger. I look at his hands and they're shaking. Why hasn't he pulled the trigger yet?

"What the fuck is happening to me!?" He asks. Blood begins to drip from his eyes and he screams in agony. His whole body begins to shake and convulse but he doesn't move from where he is standing. He continues to spasm and thrash his body in an erratic manner, culminating in cranial detonation. His head explodes like a grenade blast open inside his skull, covering both Natsuki and I in gallons of blood.

"Please tell me you saw that, please tell me you fucking saw that!" I say, glancing towards Natsuki.

"He… He just." Natsuki replied in shock, she had no idea what to say or what the fuck just happened. But that confirms it. They're more than just hallucinations or visions or whatever they fuck they are. That means somebody is doing this. That means somebody has been manipulating me from the start. That means I can make this right. That means they're going to fucking die.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10 – Another day

"Hold still!" I was attempting to give Natsuki some makeshift stitches for her face, but she was not coping with the pain very well. After burying Natsuki's father in the graves he had kindly dug for us both, we travelled back to my apartment by using the GPS on my mobile phone. We were both sat on the edge of the bath in my en-suite and, in an effort to ensure the authorities were not involved, it was decided that she would not seek medical attention from a hospital and would instead rely on my expertise and – by expertise – I mean using a sewing needle in conjunction with tooth floss.

"Ow! You're fucking terrible at this!" Natsuki squirmed as I closed the wound in her cheek.

"The more you fidget the more this will scar, and I'd rather leave as little a reminder as possible of the events tonight." I replied. After I finished stitching her cheek back together, I applied a small amount of super glue, just enough to close the wound further and to minimise the likelihood of infection.

"So now what? What should I say happened?" She asked, washing the blood from the rest of her face in my sink. I stood up from the edge of my bath and threw the needle in the bin and, after Natsuki was finished washing her face, I cleaned my hands in the sink.

"Just tell them you had a baking accident, cutting chocolate can be a dangerous task." I replied, smiling towards Natsuki. She giggled in response and, for the first time this evening, we both felt relief. While Sari was in a coma, at least she was alive rather than dead. Natsuki's father will no longer be a concern and, when his disappearance is noted, a letter constructed to fabricate his decision to abandon his daughter will absolve Natsuki of any suspicion. The evening was done and we both went to our respective rooms. Natsuki in Sayori's, and myself in mine. I try to fall asleep but the trauma of the past few days is taking a toll on my psyche. Everything I've seen, everything I've experienced, everything that's happened is just too much. How can I keep taking this? How can I keep juggling all of this pain, while writing a PhD too?

 _Knock knock knock._

Not again, not again! The knocking, the knocking at my front door. The incessant knocking. Never ending. Never faltering. Unrelenting. I stand up from my bed and grab my Glock 17 from the bedside table. Taking a deep breath, I leave my bedroom and take aim at the main door. Wearing nothing but boxer shorts, I approach the front door and place my left hand on the door handle.

 _Knock knock knock._

I push the handle down and open the door. What greets me rather than the usual hallway lined with other apartments is the same white, now stained red, corridor. I walk through the corridor, aiming down my sights the entire time and scanning for threats. The cold penetrates through my skin as my bare feet make contact with the blood stained tiles. As I reach the end of the corridor there is no door and, what greets me instead, is a full length mirror. I stare at the reflection and, rather than seeing myself in just my boxer shorts, I see the blood soaked soldier in full camouflage gear. My reflections skin is stained red and my clothing is dripping blood all over the floor, a constant flow oozing from the camouflage gear. I put my hand on the mirror and, obviously, my reflection does the same. As I place my hand on the mirror, it shatters, slicing me with a large piece of glass. Rather than a tiled wall, greets me on the other side – is me. He steps forward, leaving a trail of blood behind him as he walks towards me. I hold my ground as he approaches.

"Look at yourself. A blood stained warrior masquerading as a philosopher. You've killed too many people to be washed clean of your sins." He stops, inches from my face and I stare into his eyes – my eyes. "This is what you are." I hear somebody walk around me and I turn around to face them.

"A murderer." I see John again, drenched in blood with the bullet hole through his head which I put there. I killed my friend. Me. "You should have saved me!" He screams.

"And should have saved her!" I'm grabbed from behind by the shadow version of myself, and John also grabs onto me. They both controls my arms and begin to drag me towards where the mirror was except, rather than stopping at the wall, we go through it. The room is featureless, and contains nothing of note except for a single metal table in the darkness lit up by a powerful halogen light. They throw me onto the table and restraints appear which latch onto my wrists and ankles as if by their own accord. The shadow version of myself stands over me and he stares at me with his blank white eyes.

"Why!? Why are you doing this!? Please just leave, me, alone!" I beg my captor, but he shows no emotion other than contempt for me. A table phases into existence next to me and is covered in different tools, each intended to strike fear and instil pain into a captee.

"I'm doing this for _her._ " The shadow version of me grabs scissors from the table and slices my shirt open. What the fuck is he going to do? Torture me? To what end? I possess no information that he himself would not no. The next tool he grabs is a scalpel. He places the blade at the top of my chest and begins to slice into my skin, the blade cutting through me effortlessly. The pain is exquisite, but I hold it together intending to not satisfy my captor with screams of pain.

"Is that all you fucking got! Come on! Make my fucking day!" I scream, struggling against my restraints. Despite my anger exterior, on the inside I am terrified. This whole situation is utterly horrifying and all I want to do is escape. The shadow version of myself picks his next weapon of choice and just seeing it stops me from screaming out in anger. He grabs a serrated saw. I stare at the tool, it's serrated teeth are hauntingly sharp, and I begin to struggle even more against my restraints. I have to fucking escape!

"No, please! Don-" But before I can finish my sentence he begins to saw through my breast bone, cutting my sternum apart. With each movement of the saw wave after wave of agonizing pain reverberates throughout my form, and all I want to do is pass out from the pain but my body won't let me. At this point i'm shaking from the pain, my body is absolute shock from being subjected to such excruciating horror. However, my captor is not finished. He reaches into my open chest and grabs onto my heart, ripping it out from my body. Then, suddenly, the _woman_ appears over me. She grabs the heart from the shadow version of myself and, holding it above her head, stabs it with a knife, dripping my own blood over me.

"Ama me." She echoes, before phasing out of existence. I continue to shake and sweat, too weak to fight against my restraints. I wake up back in my bedroom to an intense wave of nausea overwhelming me, and I have to pick myself up from my bed and run to the bathroom. I throw up in the sink and red blood covers the white surface in a disgusting ichor but, now, more than ever… All I can think about is Monika _._ All I can think about is how bad I fucking need Monika. Monika. Just Monika. I look back up from the sink and stare into the mirror and I don't see myself, or the blood soaked soldier – I see the woman from the corridor. I see _her_ just staring at me. Staring through me. I must have passed out because the next thing I remember is Natsuki standing over me and shaking me awake.

"Flynn! Wake up! What happened!?" She says, still shaking me. I open my eyes and look up at Natsuki. Her face is phasing back and forth between her own and that of Monika. I can't fucking stop thinking about Monika. Calm down Flynn, you'll see her at the association later, don't worry, everything will be alright.

"I'm okay. I don't know what happened, it's just been a tough few days…" I stand up from the floor and brush myself off.

"Oh my G- Flynn, what happened to you?" Natsuki is staring at my topless body, I forgot I was just wearing boxers but she is specifically referring to the multitude of scars covering my body, mementos from Afghanistan. Bullet holes, knife wounds, and incendiary burns.

"Don't worry about it. Anyway, we have to get to NYU." Natsuki and I get ready in our respective rooms and we walk to NYU. My day goes slow, and all I can think about is seeing Monika at the literature association. After I finish giving my lectures, I walk to Sayori's lecture room. I enter the hall and see that, while Yuri has been in the room already, she must have left to get some other things. Other than that, I am alone in the hall. It feels strange, being here, while Sari is at the hospital in a coma. I try to focus on thinking about Sayori but my thoughts keep flickering back between her and Monika. Just Sayori. Just Monika. No Just Sari. No. Monika. My head begins to pound and the nausea hits me again like an iron fist to the stomach, but it passes as quickly as it came. I walk over to where Yuri has put her things and she has left her book, the portrait of markov, on the table. I remember she mentioned it was about a religious political prison camp and decide to give it a quick glance. I sit down at the table and open the book. The story is horror incarnate, and details a young girl being subjected to what I can only describe as brutality. The book is expertly written, but I can't help but feel a twinge of disgust while reading it.

"Are you enjoying my book?" I look up and see Yuri standing in the doorway, smiling towards me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to intrude on your privacy." I say, closing the book and stepping away from the table. Yuri walks towards me and picks up the book, passing it towards me.

"You can read it with me? If you'd like? Not many people like this sort of thing and it'd be nice to share it with somebody." She says, opening up the book to the last page she had read. The pages are worn, like she has read the tome several times. Before I can answer, Monika enters the room, and all I want to do is talk to her. Just Monika. Just Monika. Just. Monika.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11 – Brainwashed

"I am sorry Sayori. I wish I could have stopped this from happening, I wish that I whatever was going on was over but I promise you – I will fix this. I do not love Monika, but I am obsessed with her and I do not know why, and I really did think I was sleeping with you and not her. What I need to do you will not like, what I need to do you will not condone but I swear to you, I will regain control and whatever or whoever is doing this to me – I will beat them. I will win." I was sitting next to Sayori in hospital, listening to the continuous beep of her heartbeat on the monitor, a reassuring reminder that, despite that fact that she wasn't conscious, she was still here. I leaned in and kissed her on the forehead before standing up ready to leave the hospital.

"If I don't see you again, I hope that you forgive me." And with that said, I left the hospital. I walked outside and embraced the cold night again and, without any plan in place, I am filled with a determination to unravel the conspiracy, and end this once and for all. After I took a taxi back to my apartment, I opened the door and was greeted with a magnificent smell which oozed decadence and encouraged hedonistic self-indulgence. I looked into the kitchen and saw Natsuki, dressed in just a T-Shirt and short shorts.

"That fragrance is positively divine." I said, looking at Natuski. My presence had startled her as she was just about to open the oven.

"Flynn! You scared the shit out of me!" She replied, flustered by my sudden appearance. "I thought i'd do some baking, your diet is quite frankly shocking."

"And you thought it would be a good idea to broaden my palette with brownies." I said, chuckling to myself as I walked towards the living room table, and placing my bag down on the wooden surface.

"Well chocolate comes from cocoa beans and that counts as a vegetable right?" She smugly replied, placing her hands on her hips and beaming a smile towards me. It was nice to have her living with me now. The apartment felt empty now that Sari was... Absent.

"What's the special occasion then? You couldn't have just done this for my benefit." I said, walking back towards her in the kitchen.

"Well... I guess I wanted to say thank you for, you know, providing a solution to a problem. Also, it's my 24th birthday today!" Shit, I had no idea that she had turned 24 today!

"Happy birthday. You know, in England it's customary to honour the individual through celebration." I said, laughing to myself on the inside.

"Ooooh? How do you do that?" She said, intrigued by our British custom.

"We punch you 24 times because you've turned 24." I said, smiling and chuckling to myself. I always thought it was a strange custom, and every year back in my home country I was covered in bruises stemming from affection.

"You try that and you'll think Theon Greyjoy had it easy." She said, laughing back at me. Deciding that one would rather keep their appendages in their proper place, I decided to not risk this custom – gentle though it may be.

"Go sit down on the sofa and i'll bring these brownies through." I did as Natsuki ordered and walked back into the living room and sat down on the sofa. I brought up Netflix on our smart TV and put on a documentary created by a British national treasure – Sir David Attenborough.

"Here you go." She placed a tray of brownies on the coffee table in front of the sofa and sat next to me. I grabbed a brownie and eagerly placed it in my mouth, tasting the soft gooey chocolate.

"I apologise for the language, but these are fucking incredible." I said. They were possibly the best pseudo-dessert I had ever tasted.

"Can I say something?" Natsuki asked.

"Of course." I said, still taking brownie after brownie from the table.

"After what happened to my Dad I thought I would feel something but... The only thing I feel bad about is that, I can't help but feel like I have blood on my hands despite the fact that I didn't kill him. He really was a piece of shit. He used to hurt me in ways I couldn't describe. Not just physically and emotionally but..." Natsuki's voice trailed over. I stopped eating brownies and turned to face Natuski.

"You mean he?..." Seeking confirmation for my suspicions.

"Yeah..." Natsuki said, as a single tear streamed down her face. I removed my tweed jacket and took out the hankerchief from the top pocket. I dabbed the tear from Natsuki's face.

"Whatever he did to you, whatever he made you do... He can't hurt you anymore. He's dead. And you don't have blood on your hands, something killed him, you've saw it now. You've seen what's been... Pestering me. I don't know what's going on but something had been making me see things, affecting me." I said, rolling up my white shirt sleeves up my forearms in an effort to make my tweed waistcoat appear less formal.

"I would think you're crazy but, after seeing it for myself... I don't know what to say. This feeling, this, blood on my hands feeling... How do I make it stop?" She pleaded with me, desperate to make the pain go away. I stared at her for a moment and stood up, walking over to the drinks cabinet and pouring myself a scotch. I grabbed the tumbler and walked over to the window which oversaw the beautiful cityscape of New York, ready to relay her a story.

"When I was first deployed to Afghanistan, I was just a kid really in the grand scheme of things. Sure, I was legally an adult but, to go to a war zone at such a young age... Anyway, after my first few days there I was sent out with my section, along with several other platoons, to a nearby Taliban controlled village. My fire-team were conducting a room clearance and, honestly? I couldn't bring myself to shoot my rifle. I couldn't bring myself to kill anybody. After we covered the whole building I walked back through the rooms to see if there were any survivors as ordered. There was just the one. I approached him, and took out my first aid kit to help him. I thought I heard somebody behind me but there was nobody there, but as I turned around he pulled out a pistol and took a shot at me. Fortunately, he missed. And that's when I did it. I disarmed him my breaking his wrist, and I used my combat knife to slowly pierce his heart. He was my first kill. Now he's the one I always remember, because I killed him out anger, not out of necessity. I killed him because I wanted too. For a long time I felt guilty, I had blood on my hands. But then I realised something. Sometimes in this world the wrong thing is the right thing to do, and if I did leave him alive? Well somebody else would have burned. So you shouldn't feel like you have blood on your hands because you've done the world a favour. If he lived, he would have just taken it out on somebody else." I stared out of the window and looked at the cityscape for a while, taking sips from my scotch when the mood struck me. Suddenly, Natsuki was hugging me from behind and it caught me off guard, pinning my arms to my sides.

"What are you doing?" I said, startled by her outburst of affection and slightly annoyed that I could not sip my scotch.

"You're such a tortured soul Flynn." She said, tightening her grip around me. For some reason I started to feel fuzzy, the world was like, television static and I found it extremely difficult to open my mouth to speak and I was just so, relaxed.

"Natsuki... Did you put something in those brownies?" I asked.

"I was wondering how long it would take to kick in!" She replied, laughing at me as she let go. "They're space cakes!"

"Whooooah." I felt strange. Very strange. The world was just so, fuzzy. We spent the rest of the evening eating brownies and watching the David Attenborough documentary. It was fucking amazing.

 _Knock knock knock._

The knocking? Now? I immediately stood up again, determined to keep going, to fight whatever was behind this. There was no more fear and I had no more tears to shed, I have a plan – not a very good one – but a plan nonetheless. Natsuki was frozen in time, with a brownie in hand half way between the table and her mouth, with crumbs which defied gravity. The David Attenborough had also stopped, paused on a scene involving a fearful creature descending into a trap.

 _Knock knock knock._

"Don't worry. I don't intend to keep you waiting!" I confidently shouted, unhosltering my glock 17, ready for a confrontation. I walked over to the front door and pushed down the handle. I again walked down the white corridor stained in blood towards the end of the hallway, my eyes aiming down the sights the entire way. As I reached the end of the corridor, there was a door – Victorian in design like previously – which I stopped just outside of. Before opening the door, I stopped, taking several slow deep breaths to steady my nerves. Except, rather than having an intense and fast heartbeat, it was slow. I was ready. I placed my hand on the door handle and opened the door, still aiming down my sights. I entered the room, and was greeted with a beautiful Victorian dining hall. The wooden walls were decorated with tasteful artistic designs, and the room was lighten up by an exquisite chandelier and a log fireplace to the side. Chopin's raindrops was playing in the background on a phonograph, and a long table dominated the room, furnished with elegant cutlery for two people at either end. At my end of the table was a spot for myself, and at the other end was my host. A single woman was sitting opposite to where I was standing, ready to greet me.

"You?" I queried. I aimed down the sights of my pistol at her head, ready to take the shot.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12 – Revelations

 _Flynn_

"Please, take a seat – i've prepared for your arrival, Flynn." She gestured to the seat opposite her on the long dining room table, but I did not move, still aiming down my sights at her head, ready to take the shot if I needed.

"You know? I'm not even surprised Ms. Hale." I looked at Monika, sitting in her chair as beautiful as ever. It was obvious wasn't it? Why I was obsessed with her, because she wanted me to be obsessed with her. She manipulated me.

"Please Flynn, do sit down. We have a lovely meal to get through." I looked down at the table and a small serving of pate with garlic bread had appeared on a dish. I continued to aim down my sights. Monika sighed and, suddenly, I felt an agonising pain in my wrist, like my joint had been sprained through blunt force trauma. The pain had forced me to loosened my grip on the pistol, dropping it to the floor.

"Sit. Down." Monika stopped eating and looked into my eyes. Without much choice, I complied and sat down. Monika was still staring at me, so I decided to pick up the knife and fork and eat the starter.

"Good. Now, i'm sure you have plenty of questions which I am willing to answer." She looked back down to her plate and began to eat her starter again. She was right, I obviously had lots of questions and I needed answers.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"We are in your mind." Monika replied, casually picking at her starter.

"Could you please elaborate?" Her response had not clarified matters to me whatsoever.

"This is all in your head. I just used the assets present in your mind to construct a reality which I desired you to experience. That is... I can control your brain chemistry. You will see and feel and hear what I want you to."

"I've seen all this before. This room, this table, this food." I looked around, where had all of this come from? I swear I had seen this all before.

"Of course you have, I simply plucked the room from one of your memories, and took the rest of what you see from other memories." So Monika was deliving through my mind, picking out different things I had seen and rearranging them into a new experience – terrifying though her powers may be, magnificent incarnate.

"So where am I really?" I asked. The experience felt so real but, it always did.

"You are in your living room with Natsuki. Well, you were." She replied.

"What do you mean 'you were'?" I asked in return, what had she planned? And most importantly – will my plan work? Only time would tell.

"Like I said, I control your brain chemistry. You're currently on your way to my apartment. You spent the rest of your evening with Natsuki who is none the wiser and, after she went to sleep, I made you begin the journey to my place." Monika stopped eating her starter and a new dish appeared in front of us which was, of course, another of my favourites – a lamb shank with a side of roast potatoes.

"Why? Why are you doing this? All of this?" I asked, baffled by all that had been occuring.

"Because, Flynn, isn't it obvious? I'm doing this for you, for us. I'm doing this because I love you." Monika placed down her cutlery and stared into my eyes, propping her head up on her hands.

"Love? Monika, really? You don't know anything about me." Love. Monika knew nothing of love. This was infactuation – an obsession with the idea of who I am, an addiction.

"I've been watching you from the start and i've been in your mind so many times. I know your favourite food – hence the pate starter – I know your painful past, I know why you ran away, the real reason you ran away." She said, standing up from her seat as she began to walk towards me.

"Don't..." Nobody could know the truth about me. Not of who I am, but what I am.

"I know you ran away not because of what you did to John..." She was making her way gradually towards me, his hips swinging from side to side in a confident and seductive dance.

"Please..." My voice trailed off as I heard the screams of every person whose life I had taken in Afghanistan.

"But because you miss it. You miss the battlefield, you miss the fire of war and you ran away because you enjoyed every second of it. You ran away because you were scared of what you became when you depended on war. Let's take a trip down memory lane." She sat on the corner of the table, next to me, and I remained silent. Everything faded away and I found myself in a completely new environment.

"Yo, Carson, you ready for this?" I turned around and saw a man wearing black tactical gear and a balaclava. Of course. Guilt. What else would she show me? I observed the past version of myself standing in a room with a former colleague, ready to conduct 'business'. It's what I did after leaving the Army – close protection. Except it wasn't really protecting VIPs for a nice pay check, more like carrying out wet work which violated international law, Geneva convention be damned, for sketchy private military contractors. The room had blacked out windows, and in the centre – tied to a chair – was my target. We had been tasked to extract information from the poor bastard by any means necessary. I had removed his finger nails and teeth with pliers, hammered nails through his hands, broken his ankles and shattered his knees among countless other atrocities. The scene melted away, and I was back in the dining room with Monika.

"I know you came here because you thought you could make a difference and give something to the lives of others, rather than simply take lives away." She took my hand in hers, I looked at her hand which was covered perfectly smooth silky skin, and then back up into her eyes.

"And that's why I love you. You've seen ferocity, you've been a warrior, and yet you've come back from the brink and dedicated your life to improving others. How could I not love you?" I continued to stare into her beautiful green eyes, her words were poetic, and it took all of my willpower to resist her.

"So what now Monika? What happens now?" I was still determined to finish this, but I would have to do it in the real world. Incapacitating her in this construction of hers inside my own brain would be pointless, it would have to be done in the real world. Nonetheless, I needed more data, so I decided to test the parameters of her construction now that I was aware of where it existed – inside my own mind.

"I wanted you to be drawn to me with some... Encouragement. I wanted you to have free will and come to me through your own choice. But I think despite everything I have done, despite your obsession with me, your ability to resist has been remarkable. You see, to en-thrall somebody requires them to be broken down."

"So?"

"So now i'm going to break you down. You will be mine Flynn. You might not right now, but after i've finished – you'll be begging for me." Suddenly, the candles in the room blew out. My instincts took over and leapt from the chair, diving to where I had dropped my Glock 17. I stood back up immediately and aimed to where Monika had been sitting, but she was nowhere to be seen. At the end of the room behind where Monika was sitting was a door, and I began to slowly walk towards the exit – looking for her in every shadowy corner. The paintings on the wall had become horribly distorted, with faces which appeared to be melting down the wall. Where there used to be eyes were now empty black pits, voids which lacked a means of sight, but were still staring into me.

"Calm down Flynn. This isn't real." I said to myself. But to me it was real, it was all in my mind after all. There must be a way to escape from this induced nightmare! As I reached the exit, I placed my hand on the door handle and pushed it down, exiting the banquet hall and entering a dark hallway. The door slammed shut behind me and faded from existence. Candles came to life on the wall, providing some luminescence to the eerie corridor.

"Nice try Monika, but I don't have any more fear to give!" I shouted. My voice echoed down the hallway, and a familiar voice echoed back.

"You don't have any fear to give, but you have guilt." John emerged from the shadows, covered in camouflage gear which was flecked with bullet holes oozing a continuous stream of black blood onto the floor which seeped into the cracks of the old floor boards.

"Oh John..."


End file.
